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I’ve struggled with many aspects of my life. However, my husband has been a blessing. Of course, he’s not perfect. But he is damn good. He’s usually forward-thinking, open-minded and direct, generous, mature, affectionate, responsible, honest, respectful — and he still makes me laugh. An added bonus is his unwavering compassion for Black folks.​

The last several months have, however, nudged me full-steam into a new role in our relationship —that of caregiver for Bill who has endured a host of life-threatening illness. As the saying goes ‘we’ve been to the river, been baptized’. Because he has consistently throughout our years together been a tower of physical and emotional strength, support for me and my daughter, and an enabler for many of our dreams and vain desires; this new role has tested my convictions and made me practice what I preach in ways previously unimagined.

Naturally, each of us has suffered in our own distinct way. For much of this time, I have found it difficult to sleep, think clearly or focus on anything other than his needs. Fortunately, my daughter who is a registered nurse has been the voice of balance and hope for me. I have had continuous reminders that if accepted God is always in the mix. During the height of his suffering, I asked Bill, ‘What have you learned from this?’ Without hesitation, he replied ‘empathy’. Since then, if I say something that has the slightest tinge of harshness or judgment, he is quick to correct me.

I believe that life is a series of lessons designed to strengthen and prepare us for what lies ahead. During the predawn hours one day hoping to anesthetize myself to sleep, I discovered this little story which reminded me that there are no shortcuts. Each of us must pay our dues for this privilege called life.

P.S. The tide is turning. We are hopeful that Bill will have a full recovery.